It Couldn't Hurt. . .
by Chibikat the Canuck
Summary: Tragedy strikes, and one X-Man isn't sure if they can ever recover.


  
  
  
  


**_It Couldn't Hurt. . ._**

  
  


Disclaimer: I don't own any of these wonderful characters, although I am just borrowing them for the time being. See, I've got a LIBRARY CARD! *holds up library card dramatically*

  
  


Feds: Cuff her, boys.

  
  


Me: AAAH!! RUN AWAY!!!!!! *runs through a brick wall in attempt to escape*

  
  


Um. . . yeah. Feedback of any kind welcome! Fill out the Reader Review, send me some mail at [remythegamblingcajun@yahoo.com][1] , use post owls, whatever ya want. I just ask that you enjoy my first pathetic attempt at a fic! Thanks! *sweet smile*

  
  


Rating: *in deep movie voice-over voice* Rated PG-13 for mature subject matter. Parental discretion is advised. No smoking is permitted. Employees must wash hands. Don't walk. Yield. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear. 

  
  


Oh yes, and I plan on writing a sequel, or prequel, or. . . whatever, if this goes over well.

  
  


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It Couldn't Hurt. . . _by Chibikat_   
  


Memories surfaced in her mind. Terrible memories of things she wanted to forget, to silence forever, seal into an oblivion in her mind, left untouched for eternity. There the memories would sit gathering proverbial dust, covering the horrible images. . .

  
  


It couldn't hurt. . .

  
  
  
  


But how could she forget so fast, so quickly, so easily? There was no possible way. The memories would always come flooding back, no matter how she tried, or how she fought it oh so valiantly. No way to escape them, their haunts, their cries. . . their pain and death. No way to block them out, as long as she was alive. Alive. . .

  
  


It couldn't hurt. . .

  
  


Everything had happened so fast, she never had time to react, she couldn't have saved him. No way she could have. . . this is what she kept telling herself. She always tried to dodge the guilt this way, by blaming it on time. Damn time. . . so cruel, so bittersweet, so. . . invincible. No one could flee time. Time was life, and life was short. She learned this first hand. Speaking of hands, she looked down at her own, fondling a small razor blade. . .

  
  


It couldn't hurt. . .

  
  


She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't will them back into her eyes, she let them flow. She had no desire to stop. So they kept rolling down her face, streaming past her chin, dripping on to the carpet below her. She hung her head, opening her eyes after the water had drained from her eyes and soul. She felt hollow inside, like a shell without anything to protect on the inside. How ironic that her name used to reflect what she felt inside. . .

  
  


Jubilee.

  
  


This idiom had changed dramatically in the past week, though. Because he was gone. . . thanks to her. She had killed him, one of the only men she had deeply trusted and cared for. Dead. The razor blade lolled about in the palms of her hands.

  
  


It couldn't hurt. . .

  
  


The images flashed past her again. Fighting. . . the X-Men, fighting against the Brotherhood once more. . . Jubilee, herself, on the ground, stunned by a blast from Mystique. Someone beside her, no matter how blurry the image, she knew in her heart who it was. And he was protecting her from a raging Sabretooth. . . who punctured the man's heart. He didn't have a chance. . . if it wasn't for her, he would still be alive. . .

  
  


Her decision was made. Jubilee concluded she didn't deserve to live after what had happened to her best friend. It was all her fault. . . besides. . .

  
  


It couldn't hurt. . .

  
  


With a flick of her right arm, the vein in her left wrist was sliced open horizontally, blood trickling down her arm. It almost felt. . . satisfying. She then did the same to her right wrist, the red liquid oozing all over herself. Jubilee, from loss of blood, toppled on to the ground, razorblade still in hand. The blood now drenched the carpet leaving dark, river-like stains on it, her life literally draining away.

  
  


"Logan. . ." Jubilee managed to whisper, before closing her eyes, a single tear dripping down her cheek and splattering on the floor along with its brethren blood. Finally, she could forget all the pain, the memories. . . the hurt. . . but she was wrong about one thing.

  
  


It could hurt.

  
  


And it did.

  
  


_Fin_

  
  


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'Mkay, I know that was kinda depressing and such and I'm usually a very hyperactive and humourous person, but, neh. Feedback appreciated, this will contribute to whether I do a prequel or not! Thanks!   
  


Ja ne minna-san! ~ Chibikat

  
  


   [1]: mailto:remythegamblingcajun@yahoo.com,



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